


The Magic's in the Coffee

by xxxillusionxxx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everybody is some monster or mythical creature, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Magic, Siren!Allison, Sucubus!Erica, Trickster!Isaac, Werewolf Gangsters, fae!Stiles, monsterland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxillusionxxx/pseuds/xxxillusionxxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since the tall, muscled, leather-clad werewolf had begun his daily coffee routine at the Skullery—a horrendous name in Stiles’s opinion, but his boss was a skeleton who thought he was terribly clever—an impromptu competition developed among the baristas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm just really ready for Halloween or something because this fic just kind of happened. It's unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors. Also if you have any tag suggestions please let me know. Comments much appreciated! :)

                “Medium black coffee.”

                Stiles looked up from the milk he was steaming to see Sexy Puppy standing at the register. Lydia smirked at him as she walked over to make his drink.

                “Dammit Lydia you’ve gotten to him first for the last three days. I thought we said no supernatural abilities allowed!”

                “I’d hardly call luck a supernatural ability. Maybe if you paid more attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t be so far behind the rest of us.” Lydia’s smile was radiant as she capped the coffee and brought it back to the register.

Ever since the tall, muscled, leather-clad werewolf had begun his daily coffee routine at the Skullery—a horrendous name in Stiles’s opinion, but his boss was a skeleton who thought he was terribly clever—an impromptu competition developed among the baristas. At first it was just Stiles hogging the register whenever the handsome werewolf showed up. Then Erica began cutting him off when she noticed what he was up to—he was sure it was just to bother him as Erica seemed to subsist off of Stiles’s pain—and of course, whenever Erica became involved in anything Isaac was quick to follow. The whole thing became a game pretty quickly and even Lydia joined in once Stiles started a score sheet in the back room. He’d titled it ‘Sexy Puppy Sightings’ and, of course, Lydia was winning.

                “Here’s your change; see you tomorrow!” Lydia almost sang the words. Stiles heard Sexy Puppy reply with his customary grunt and watched him leave the café. He felt a bit creepy for staring at the guy everyday when he left but hey, it was a great view.

                “Oh damn, Lydia got him again?” Erica pouted, suddenly right next to him.

                “Jeez, you gotta stop doing that! You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” Stiles was always a bit disturbed by how silently the girl moved around. Her pout turned into a smirk as she slid her hand up his chest, pausing over his heart. Stiles’s vision whited-out for a moment, then filled with images of a certain werewolf. And suddenly there was warm leather sliding against his naked chest, as a large hand wrapped firmly around his dick and moved in long, languid strokes. Hungry hazel eyes held his gaze, inches away from his own and moving closer…

                “Oh my god!” Stiles shoved in front of him blindly and Erica’s wicked giggles filled his ears as the café came back into focus. A troll standing in front of the counter froze, his credit card halfway to Lydia’s outstretched hand, and tried to peer around the espresso machine to see what was going on. Lydia just rolled her eyes and plucked the card gently from the distracted patron.

                “Looks like _someone_ has a leather fetish…or do you just have a thing for leather jackets on werewolves?” Erica purred. Stiles felt his face and neck burn crimson. 

                “I do not! It’s not...it’s just…this is totally sexual harassment!” Stiles stuttered. Erica just laughed again and patted him on the cheek before sashaying over to the register to help Lydia with the line that was beginning to form. Stiles tried to rub the blush off his face before putting together the drink orders the girls passed to him. Despite the fact that he and Erica had known each other since elementary school and had become close after working together for 3 years at the café, Stiles still got embarrassed every time the succubus tapped into his fantasies. And boy did the girl enjoy seeing him squirm; you would think he’d be completely immune to it by now.

He was the only monster with fae blood that he knew of who blushed. His mother’s people were notoriously flirtatious, and much too graceful to ever blush. Unfortunately, Stiles inherited the pale skin, slender limbs, and large brown eyes of his mother, but absolutely none of her elegance. The tengu blood he inherited from his father’s side of the family didn’t really help him in that department either. 

                The line for coffee was getting dangerously close to literally ending out the door and Stiles scrambled to fill all the orders the girls pushed his way, trying desperately not to spill anything.  Despite the stress, he really did like his job. The rush hours went by pretty quick since he was constantly moving, and during those awkward times of the day when no one wanted coffee, Lydia, Erica, and Isaac were all awesome company.

                When his shift finally ended, Stiles dramatically dropped into one of the many comfy chairs scattered around the café.

                “Oh sweet relief, how I’ve longed for your comforting embrace!”

                “I can comfort you whenever you want, sweetheart. I’ve been told that my embrace brings the best relief…” Erica purred as she slid into the chair next to his. 

                “I can only imagine,” Stiles mumbled back, never quite ready for Erica’s brand of teasing despite the fact that he could always see it coming. “Wanna go get drinks at McGhouley’s with me and Scott tonight? Allison is bartending so we figured we’d harass her a bit. Well, I figured I would harass her. Scott will probably fluctuate between staring down his competition and giving her puppy eyes all night.”

                The side of Erica’s lip quirked up into a familiar smirk. She should really get copyrights for that thing.

                “They’re basically dating already. I have no idea why he doesn’t just ask her out. She’s clearly as hot for him as he is for her,” she said.

                “That’s what I’ve been telling him. He says he’s gonna say something tonight after her shift, but he’s also said that the last three times we went and we’re still running on radio silence. So you coming or am I gonna have to watch him pine alone?”

                “Sounds thrilling, but Isaac scored tickets to the Beast-Boys concert tonight and I am _not_ missing it.”

                “Uh, fine. At least Scott appreciates my awesomeness”

***

 Scott totally did not appreciate his awesomeness. About 15 minutes after arriving, Scott finally had the balls to confess his feelings and ask Allison on a date. Apparently, Allison had been pining just as hard as Scott had because she told him she was off in an hour if he wanted to get an extremely late dinner. And that’s how Stiles had been ditched at the bar by his best friend and ride home. It was a bit of a relief though, truth be told; Stiles could only take so much handholding, flirting, and puke-worthy loving gazes.

                “Hey sweetie, looking for some fun?” the wasted Jin who had stumbled up to the bar and wedged himself next to Stiles shouted over the music. Stiles gave him, what he hoped was, a long-suffering glare before turning back to his drink.

                “Awww, don’t be like that, baby” the stranger threw his arm over Stile’s shoulders, staggering a little in the process.

Stiles had enough of this. This was the third guy to hit on him (at least he was mildly attractive, the other two were old enough to be his father) and Stiles was definitely not drunk enough to enjoy the attention.

“Sorry, my boyfriend’s picking me up” he said as he shrugged off the Jin’s arm and gestured toward to the exit across the dance floor. The man stumbled a bit, blinking slowly, before spotting the two scantily-clad witches downing tequila shots further down the bar and heading in their direction.

Unwilling to push through the throng of dancers, Stiles headed to the back exit. The rush of cool that hit his skin as soon as he stepped into the alley was a welcomed relief. As was the decrease of sound from pounding house music to a muffled bass as the door closed behind him.

The walk back to the apartment wasn’t too bad, only about 10 blocks, and cab fare did not factor in well to the budget of a college student, so walking it was.

Five blocks of silent (and mumbled) reflection on his choice of best friend and roommate (and his eternal horrible luck in timing which caused said friend to actually go on a date with the girl he’s been obsessing over when no one else is free to go bar hopping, leaving Stiles to walk all alone on the empty back alleys in the middle of the night heading to his empty apartment on what could have been an eventful Friday night) later, Stiles hears a low keening sound coming from around the corner of the alleyway he was passing. His thoughts train-wrecked for a moment and he froze with one foot still up in the air, about to step forward. Was that an animal? He listens for a long moment before moving forward again, figuring it was nothing. He doesn’t take two steps before he hears the tell-tale crash of something hitting a metal dumpster and a barely audible groan.

 _Walk away, Stiles, just walk away. It’s probably just a gang thing that you definitely do not want to get involved in._ He tries to take his own advice but can’t move away without feeling guilt tearing through him. What if someone’s being mugged? Or even if it is a gang thing, what if none of his friends know where he is or what’s happening?

Suddenly determined (and completely aware of how stupid this probably is), Stiles creeps into the dark alleyway and follows the rumble of deep, male voices to the intersecting path that runs between the two run-down buildings. He stops at the corner and tries to hear what they’re saying.

“...to Laura. She’s my sister, I am not about to betray her, so fuck you and fuck your contacts.”

“Ah, but Derek, we’re family! I only want what’s best for the both of you; you two are blowing the Miami incident way out of proportion…” the man’s voice was cut off by a growl followed quickly by the very distinct sound of something heavy slamming into a dumpster. This was definitely not ok. Where are the police when you need them? They never seemed to have a problem finding Stiles on the various youthful escapades he and Scott used to engage in, yet here when Stiles would love some lawful interruption of what sounded like a pretty bad domestic dispute, there was no one to be seen.

Figuring that said law-enforcers would never make it in time to prevent whatever evil deeds (the second man sounded like a villain, ok? Definitely doing some evil deeds) were happening in this secluded alleywayif he called them anyway, Stiles ran around the corner.

And like the genius he definitely was, he froze awkwardly when two hefty body-guard type men—definitely ogre blood there—and a slender well-dressed middle-aged man turned to stare at him. Even the man on the ground at their feet (though mostly hidden in their shadow) appeared to have lifted his head to look in his direction.

“Uhm, hi. Sorry to interrupt your…thing…but I think you need to move along and leave that man alone, yeah?” he managed to get out despite the overwhelming feeling of _whythehellamIdoingthis_ flooding his brain.

The smaller man’s eyebrows shot up and his lips twitched into a thin smile. The other two laughed in what seemed to be a mix of shock and actual humor. Which, rude, ok? Stiles had some tricks up his sleeve. None he was supposed to use, but well, maybe he had stunned them into leaving without trying to beat the shit out of him. Or murder him. That definitely seemed like a possibility given the general ambience of the dark, secluded alleyway.

“And who might you be?” The small man asked. So he was the villain.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you leave before I make you.”

Silence followed that. The man’s eyes narrowed in what could be either amusement or murderous intent. The other two looked somewhere between shocked and enraged.

“Dylan, Baez, please escort this young man wherever he is going, I believe he is lost,” the villain said in the same breezy manner he had been speaking in before. Tweedle dum and tweedle dee smirked at that and started toward Stiles.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles relaxed his muscles as much as he could and gathered his energy, directing it to his Voice.

“ _The three of you will not harm me or the man on the ground. You will leave this place and return home without hurting or speaking to anyone or each other.”_

The two thugs stilled in their advancement and stiffened with matching looks of fear before walking past him and around the corner. The third man followed, but his expression seemed more amused than scared as his eyes lingered on Stiles like he was a choice piece of meat. 

Stiles watched them walk away then turned to the man slumped against the brick wall beside the dumpster. His face was covered in shadow but from the looks of it, the man was badly hurt.

“Um, hey. Are you ok?” he asked taking a step closer to the man’s slumped figure. A growl echoed loudly in the tight space.

“Whoa, hey, ok,” Stiles backtracked, raising his hands in surrender, “I was just asking. It’s not like I totally just saved your hide or anything.”

The figure stood up and brushed dirt off his pants before stepping forward into the dim light.  

 

Fae magic was powerful but rare and shrouded in secret. Coercion was a rare gift even among his kind and Stiles hated to use it, but it seemed rather necessary for the situation.  When villain silently turned the corner, Stiles turned heaved a sigh of relief before turning his attention to the man still on his hands and knees next to the dumpster. And Stiles totally knows this guy.

“Oh my god! I make your coffee!” Stiles blurted out. Sexy Puppy raised his eyebrow and Stiles couldn’t help blushing in embarrassment. Good thing the lighting was so bad.

“What did you do?” Sexy Puppy asked (and Stiles really needed to get his real name before he accidently calls him by his nickname. The guy doesn’t look like he can take a joke.)

“What?” Stiles floundered for an excuse.

“What did you do just then to make them leave?”

“I just asked them? Being assertive will get you far in life”

The man did not look convinced. In fact, he looked like he would like to rip Stiles’s throat out right now.

“You’re lying. What did you do.” His eyes flashed a luminous blue so quickly that Stiles doubted whether he saw it at all.

“Look it’s not really important. You’re welcome though.” Stiles snapped. His night had turned from crap to crappier and he was already feeling guilty for using his Voice when his mother had always told him not to, so being interrogated by his coffee house crush—who apparently was abrasive as fuck—was just not something he wanted to deal with right now.

The man stared him down as if that was going to make him spew forth his deepest darkest secrets. Yeah, no.

“I’m gonna go. Good luck with whatever this whole thing was” Stiles said curtly before turning his back on the man and heading out of the alley.

“ _Don’t follow me,”_ he added in his Voice because hey, he’s already broken his mom’s rules, he might as well do it again.

He didn’t turn back as he left the alleyway and headed home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So again, unbeta'd. Also don't expect updates to always be this quick; I'm working on my masters in social work so I don't have a lot of free time, unfortunately. Also Erica is my queen and she forever lives in my heart.

“Stiles, she is so smart. And beautiful, but she’s so down to earth. She’s not vain like most nymphs are. I can’t believe she agreed to see me again, it’s so surreal.” Scott was practically glowing. It was mildly nauseating. 

“Why is it surreal? Any lady would be lucky to score a big bad werewolf such as yourself. Besides, she’s been giving you the ‘come hither’ look for weeks now, it’s about time you grew a pair.” Scott smiled and Stiles slumped deeper into the sofa he was sprawled out on. 

Stiles had gotten home to an empty apartment last night with every intention of going right to sleep. Unfortunately, the minute his head hit the pillow he came to the realization that Sexy Puppy visits the coffee shop every goddamn day and that he would probably at some point have to suffer through that awkward interaction. Hear that? That’s the sound of anxiety murdering any hope of sleep or peace for the rest of the weekend. 

At least Scott was happy. He hasn’t shut up since he walked in the door this morning. Apparently, he and Allison had literally talked all night. 

“So how was the bar last night? You look exhausted so it must’ve been a late night. Did somebody get lucky?” 

“Nah, I left right after you did. It was a lame crowd”

Scott tilted his head (like a puppy) and took a deep breath in. Wow, the boy doesn’t even try to be subtle anymore. 

“So why are you so tired and…anxious?” Scott sniffed the air again. “Yeah, definitely anxious. What happened?”

A little known fact about Scott: deep down, he was a huge gossip. He only let it out with his closest friends, but Scott really liked to be in the know. Stiles sometimes wondered where he actually got all of his information. The boy’s probably got contacts all over the city that Stiles doesn’t even know about. Which actually, now that he thinks about it…

“Scott, have you ever heard of evil werewolves with henchmen?” 

Scott raised his eyebrows. 

“Henchmen?” Scott sounded as incredulous as he usually did when Stiles said something stupid. Rude.  
“Yeah, like a super villain bit. Or maybe more like a West Side Story without the romance or dancing. Well I don’t know, I didn’t ask them what their hobbies were.” Stiles imagined the werewolves snapping their fingers and ballet dancing around the city. It would probably make for a good intimidation tactic since you’ve gotta be one tough-ass psycho to be doing that in public. 

Scott’s eyebrows pulled down in concern. 

“There’s the Hale group, but they’re more like mafia, real shady business family. What happened? Are you sure it wasn’t just some punks?”

“No, this was shady as fuck. I kind of walked into some kind of weird dispute and you know that guy I always talk about from the shop?”

Scott nodded.

“Well, he was there! I ended up saving him from this creepy older guy and his thugs and then he was asking me questions and I came home and just ugh. I don’t want to deal with ever having to see him again.” Stiles threw his arms into the air dramatically before letting his hands fall over his face.

“Wait, wait. You saved him? Stiles, what the hell did you do?” Scott looked like he knew exactly what Stiles did but just wanted to hear him say it. Well fuck that. He stared right back at Scott without blinking. 

“Stiles, it was your mom’s one rule!” 

And ok, that hurt a bit. He felt guilty but sometimes it’s just necessary. He wasn’t gonna leave someone in a dirty alleyway to get beaten or murdered or whatever just because his ability was rare and morally ambiguous. 

“He needed help! Besides, it’s normally not a problem it’s just that this time I can’t just never see him again. What am I supposed to say to him?”

Scott thought for a moment.

“Nothing.” He said. 

“Nothing.” Stiles repeated.

“Just stay in the back when he normally comes in. He probably didn’t recognize you. Did he get your scent? Maybe change your body wash and shampoo to throw it off.” 

Scott sounded frustrated but at least that was actually a really helpful idea. When Stiles’s mom died, Scott became fiercely protective of his best friend. Sometimes he acted like an older brother even though they were the same age. 

“Yeah, ok. It’ll probably be fine.” Stiles said even as felt a curl of unease in his gut. 

Scott’s expression softened and he moved from his chair to the sofa, throwing an arm over Stiles’s shoulders. 

“It will be fine. Worst case scenario, I’ll go beat him up for you” Scott said as his eyes flashed red. Stiles couldn’t help laughing. Scott was the best.

“Alright Mr. ‘true alpha.’ I bet Allison swooned for those glowing crimson eyes.” 

Stiles laughed as Scott hit him with a pillow. He blocked the next swing and dove over Scott to get his own ammunition. He could avoid Sexy Puppy. It was going to be fine.  
***  
This was anything but fine. Stiles could barely focus all morning. He checked the clock constantly even when he knew that Sexy Puppy wouldn’t be in for hours. He was looking at the clock for the hundredth time when he felt a pinch on his ass.

“Oh my god! Erica! Jesus, what’re you trying to give me a heart attack?” Stiles could feel his heartbeat jack rabbiting and the rush from suddenly released adrenaline.

Erica raised an eyebrow and perched a hand on her hip. 

“Did you drink espresso again? You’ve been really twitchy this morning.” 

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and sighed. 

“No, I just didn’t get a lot of sleep this weekend and it’s got me all…” he waved his arms in a vague swirling pattern before dropping them to his side. 

“Hmm, seems like pixie-boy’s got something on his mind.”

“Ooh, what could it be?” Isaac said, sidling up to Stile’s side and throwing an arm around his waist. 

Stiles looked pointedly from the hand resting just above his hip to the smirking boy who only squeezed his hip and stared right back at him. Stiles was positive that there was some trickster blood in Isaac; the boy loved to mess with people and Erica’s influence had only served to make his games more sexual. He knew that the two were more like siblings than lovers, but he wondered sometimes how far they went with each other. He’d seen them play a game of chicken once which had only ended when he forced himself between the two of them and (after several inappropriate gropes which Stiles pretends never happened) they finally separated. 

“It’s honestly nothing,” Stiles lied. No way in hell was he going to willingly give them another way to torment him. “I just have a huge exam tomorrow that I’ve been stressing over.”

Erica narrowed her eyes, assessing him, then spun on her heel and headed to the register to help a customer. Isaac smacked him on the ass and flashed a shit-eating grin. 

“Don’t worry so much man. You’re smart but you look like you got hit by a freight train. Just remember that no matter how bad you do, you’re still smarter than Greenberg,” he said as he went to go help Erica with the line that was beginning to form. 

Stiles laughed a little then sighed. He kind of wished Scott were here. It was hard to work while doing a fast track for veterinary school. 

Stiles went to the back to grab fresh muffins, his eyes slid back to the clock. 

The rest of the morning was much of the same. The early morning rush kept them busy and during down time Stiles found himself going in circles without really getting anything done. Erica was clearly suspicious that he was hiding something because she kept side-eying him and only responded to him in monosyllables. 

He must have lost track of time in the latest rush because all of a sudden he saw a flash of leather at the end of the line. He squealed (in a manly way) and dropped to the floor. Erica looked down at him askance then scanned the café. Her eyes lit up on something and when she looked back down on him she was smirking. 

Stiles waved his hands frantically and then held a finger up to his lips. Erica just looked back up at the customer staring curiously over the counter, smirk still firmly in place. Stiles took this as a sign that she wasn’t going to rat him out, but crawled into the back room anyway. Just in case.

Stiles waited just behind the door for a few minutes before realizing that he should probably be doing something productive. Getting more ice was always a good thing. As he filled a bucket with ice, all he could think about was the man waiting just outside for his coffee. 

He kept his eye on the door, paranoid that the man was going to burst in and beat the shit out of him for using his abilities on him. When the bucket was full, he hefted it up and walked to the door, careful to stay away from the small window. He took a deep breath and peeked out. 

The café looked mostly empty. Only one customer was at the register and Sexy Puppy was nowhere to be found. Stiles let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Then the door opened and Stiles stood face to face with his worst nightmare. Erica. 

Erica was radiating satisfaction. She stepped forward and Stiles stepped back until the door closed and they were alone in the back room. 

“Um, so….”

“He asked about you,” Erica cut him off. 

“He did?!” Stiles’s voice cracked a little bit at the end and he cleared his throat in embarrassment. 

“I told him you were here and hiding in the back.”

“Erica, why! He totally wants to beat me up!”

Erica tilted her head to the side.

“He didn’t say anything else. And he wants to fuck you in case you wanted to know.”

Stiles’s jaw dropped. His mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments before he realized what he was doing and snapped it shut. He was totally speechless. 

“His arousal was barely there but it tasted spicy like curry. Curry usually means he likes it rough. So he wants to fuck you, you want to fuck him, and you’ve clearly met. So why didn’t you fuck?”

Stiles just stared at her for a few seconds. 

“He doesn’t want to fuck me, he wants to kill me.”

Erica sighed dramatically.

“This is why you need me, Stiles. How else would you ever get laid?”

Stiles didn’t know what else to say so he just looked at her skeptically. Erica smiled and patted him on the head before heading to the front, presumably to tell Isaac that Stiles had a love interest. Which he totally did not. Erica was just seeing (eating?) things that weren’t there. 

The rest of the day was uneventful and much easier without the anticipation hanging over his head. He could totally do this. Now he only had to go through this every day that he worked the morning shift for the rest of his career as a barista. Yeah, he could totally do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to say hi to me on [tumblr](http://xodanielleox.tumblr.com/). Also feel free to send me prompts. Especially if you like steter, sciles, or allydia. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More goodies! I also love Allison. Basically all the teen wolf ladies are my queens. Tell me what you like and don't like and if you want this to go somewhere, let me know that too! This can go a lot of different ways.

It was only 2pm, so Stiles had plenty of time to get some of his homework done before going to dinner with Scott an Allison. They wanted to thank him for being supportive or whatever. He was just happy to be getting free food.  
“Hey.”  
Stiles spun on his heel and had a mini heart attack because Sexy Puppy was standing right next to the entrance of the shop. He left like four hours ago, had he been there this whole time?

“Have you been creeping out here all this time?”

He never claimed to have a good brain-to-mouth filter. The man smirked (really? Ousted as a stalker and the man still smirks?) and walked right up to Stiles, getting a hand on his back and forcefully leading him over to one of the empty outdoor tables. 

“Today’s my day off. I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

He shoved Stiles forward a little bit before taking a seat on the other side of the table. Stiles just stood awkwardly for a few moments, trying to decide if he should make a run for it or not. After a beat he mentally sighed and sat down to have what was bound to be a psychologically painful conversation. 

“Well, I’ve only been serving you coffee every day for the last several months soo…”  
The smirk slipped off his face, replaced with a much more serious expression. Stiles didn’t know how to take that shift in mood. 

“Did you follow me?”

“Wait, what?” Stiles gaped, taken aback by the question. “I work here; you’re the stalker in this situation.” 

The man shook his head, eyes flashing blue. 

“The other night. Why were you there the other night?”

“Oh,” Stiles scratched the back of his head, feeling weirdly put on the spot. 

“I just happened to be walking by and it sounded like someone needed help, which was you I guess.”

The man stared at him stonily before nodding and quirking his lips into a smile that reminded Stiles that he was, in fact, a werewolf. 

“Whatever you did that night to get my uncle to leave and to keep me from following you, could you do it again?”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking—”

“I can hear that you’re lying,” the man cut him off, “tell me the truth or I will rip your throat out with my teeth.” 

He flashed a sharp-toothed smile and Stiles suddenly felt a bizarre combination of bone-deep terror and arousal (goddammit little Stiles, was now really the time for this?). It was all Sexy Puppy’s fault, because what gives him the right to walk around like sex on two legs? His jaw line was practically indecent! Why else would they call him Sexy Puppy? Though now that he’s thinking about it…

“I’m Stiles, what’s your name?” Stiles threw out, as per usual ignoring his limited survival instinct. 

The man looked a little taken aback. He blinked a few times before he seemed to gather himself again.

“It’s Derek. And answer my question.”

Stiles squinted at the man in front of him. He supposed that ‘Derek’ fit him pretty well. 

“Why do you want to know?”

When Derek looked like he was about to actually get angry, Stiles quickly elaborated. 

“Supposing that I could do it again, what do you intend to do with that information?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Derek said calmly, though he still looked angry. It was probably the eyebrows.  
“Well, I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want from me” Stiles reasoned. At this point, he really was curious as to why Derek was so fixated on his ability. 

Derek was silent for a moment, thinking. He tilted his head a bit, a less dramatic version of what Scott always did when he was thinking really hard. His eyes scanned Stiles up and down before settling on direct eye contact. Stiles felt like Derek was trying to look into his soul. He probably could too, I mean those eyes were ridiculous! 

“The man that you sent away? He’s my uncle. You walked in on him trying to convince me to turn on my sister so that he can take over as the head of the Hale group. We know that he’s been vying for power for a while now, but…he’s the only family we really have left.”

Stiles had heard of the fire that burned down the Hale house. He didn’t watch the news much but his dad had been on that case. He said it was horrible. Eleven people died; almost the entire family was wiped out in one night. The three of them must have been the only survivors. 

“Why don’t you just let him run the…group?”

Stiles couldn’t see why that would be a problem, unless his sister was a power-hungry bitch or something. It would certainly solve Derek’s problem. 

“Since the fire, Peter hasn’t exactly been totally sane.” 

It looked like there was much more to it than that but Derek was clearly not going to say anything else.

“So you want me to help you get your crazy uncle back in line without actually killing him?”

“Yeah, I mean, pretty much.” 

Derek actually seemed a little bit embarrassed to be asking. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he would think that the man really was the puppy he was nicknamed instead of the dangerous gang-affiliated Mafioso that he was. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so, sorry dude.” 

Derek looked completely unimpressed. He also looked like he was seriously considering following through on his earlier threat. 

“It’s nothing against you,” Stiles continued unasked, “all this gang stuff is just kind of over my head and I don’t really want to stick my neck out for someone that I barely know”

Surprisingly, Derek grinned. 

“Like you did last night,” he supplied. 

Stiles blinked, caught offguard. 

“Exactly like that. Now if you don’t mind, I have a paper to write before dinnertime”  
Stiles waved it off and stood up from his seat, hovering awkwardly for a minute to see what Derek would do. Derek stood up as well and handed something over to Stiles.

“We’ll keep in touch. It was good talking to you, Stiles” he smiled again and headed in the opposite direction of where Stiles was going. 

Stiles looked down at his hands dumbly. It was his phone. Derek had stolen his goddamn phone and he didn’t even realize it. He scrolled through the contact list, finding one listed for Derek Hale. 

He quickly changed that to Stupid Rude Stalker Puppy and headed back to his apartment, mulling over his interaction.

Helping Derek probably wouldn’t be a horrible thing to do, but he just knew that Scott would have an aneurism if he had agreed. Leave it up to Stiles to get caught up in a werewolf family dispute the one time he decides to help someone out of a tight spot. Scott probably wouldn’t find it as ironic as he did, but Scott took himself too seriously anyway. 

Maybe bringing it up with Allison there would distract him from blaming Stiles for his part in all of this and focus him on the being helpful and brainstorming part.  
***  
Though this dinner was supposedly for him, Stiles somehow ended up cooking. He didn’t mind so much because cooking gave him a good distraction while he and Scott were alone in the apartment together to prevent him from blurting out what happened earlier today.

No, Stiles was 100% sure that this would go smoother with an Allison buffer.

They spend about an hour busying themselves with their own work, Stiles in the kitchen, and Scott cleaning up the rest of the apartment. The silence felt tense to Stiles but that was probably just his anticipation. Scott didn’t seem too bothered by it anyway. 

When Allison finally arrived, Stiles was at the end of his rope. He was never good at keeping quiet about stuff which was probably why no one but Scott told him any secrets. He served dinner and before anyone could even get a bite in he just rushed it all out.

“So that guy I always talk about who I saved the other day remembered me from work and he waited until I left to corner me and ask me to help him out in his werewolf family dispute and I said no but he has my phone number and he sounded like this was going to happen again. And his name is Derek Hale by the way which totally fits his persona in my opinion.”

Scott stared across the table at him with a forkful of chicken halfway to his slack mouth. Allison looked just as dumbstruck, though perhaps a bit more confused. 

“Huh?” Scott finally settled on. 

“I think I’m missing some vital information here,” Allison said having recovered a little faster than Scott. 

“This is that thing with the Hales that I mentioned,” Scott supplied, earning him a sound of recognition from Allison and an offended grunt from Stiles.

“I only asked her about it because her family has a history with the Hales so I told her to keep an ear on the ground for me,” Scott defended himself when he noticed the affronted look Stiles was giving him.

Stiles stood up silently and walked over to the whiteboard hung on the fridge. The top read: Best Friend Ever Award followed by a list of Scott, Stiles, Erica, Isaac, and Lydia’s names. Allison’s had recently been added to the bottom. 

Somehow, Stiles turned everything into a competition but hey, it kept life interesting. He picked up the eraser, ignoring Scott’s calls to stop overreacting, and erased all of the stars drawn in next to Scott’s name. He turned to look back at the pair thoughtfully before erasing the one star that Allison had already earned as well. 

“Dude, harsh.” Scott complained. Stiles just shrugged and sat back down to his meal. 

“You’re lucky I’m not retracting you dinner privileges.” 

Scott shrugged in turn and began cutting into his meat again.

“So this Derek guy is following you now? Does he seem threatening? Cuz I can always walk you to and from work if you’re uncomfortable” Scott said.

“Nah, I mean, he seems like a persistent guy but I don’t think he’s necessarily dangerous.”

“No, he has no ill intentions towards you, I would have seen it” Allison chimed in.

“Wait, what?” Stiles asked.

“I’m a siren, so I can see peoples’ intentions. Bad intentions look kind of black and smokey and they tend to cling to you for days after contact. You don’t have any black on you so you haven’t come into contact with anyone who wishes you harm.” Allison scratched her head, looking a little embarrassed. “But I mean, I don’t really know for sure.”

If Stiles could take a picture, he’s sure he could capture the stars in Scott’s eyes right then. A sappy smile stretched his features.

“Allison, you are so awesome,” he said, clearly impressed. 

Stiles was pretty impressed himself. He had never known any sirens so he didn’t know much about what they could do other than weave spells into their songs. What would it be like to see stuff like that? Was it anything like seeing glamour? Stiles and Allison clearly had a lot to talk about. 

“Haha, thanks. But if it makes you more comfortable, Stiles, I don’t have classes tomorrow and I’m not working until later so I can go with you and Scott and scope out if this guy is really dangerous”

Stiles blinked. He had forgotten that they were talking about Derek so he needed to reorganize his chaotic thoughts. 

“Nah, I really think I can handle this guy on my own. Just, if I go missing all of a sudden, you know what description to give the police.”

Scott was looking really constipated at that so Stiles just laughed and waved it off. 

“But seriously, I just wanted to let you guys know what was going on in the dramatic life of Stiles Stilinski.”

“Ok buddy, but call me for anything. And take the wolfs-bane laced pepper spray you bought when you were pissed off at me last Christmas”

Allison’s eyes widened but Stiles just doubled over laughing. That had been painful for everyone in the end, one spray spreading throughout the whole room and blinding werewolf and non-werewolf alike. Lydia still demanded reparation Christmas cookies every year for that debacle. 

“Sure thing buddy. Now, who’s ready for some chocolate cake and coffee?”

Two smiles begged the question: when is one ever not ready for chocolate cake?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!!!!](http://xodanielleox.tumblr.com/) :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm going to try to keep updating at least once every other week but midterms are coming up so I can't make any promises. This story is also a lot of fun to write around Halloween, so I want to get a good chunk done this month.

The next day at work was surprisingly uneventful. Sexy Puppy Derek Hale didn’t even stop in for his usual coffee. It’s not like he’d been waiting or anything so it didn’t matter. In the blink of an eye the day was over and Stiles was hanging up his syrup-soaked apron. 

“Don’t you think it’s time to wash that thing?” Lydia asked, setting her own pristine apron alongside his soiled one. 

“Nah, it’s just gonna get dirty again. Besides, the syrup gives it character,” Stiles replied. Lydia’s lips twisted into a lopsided grin. 

“The caramel looks like a huge cum-stain,” she sniped. 

“Well, then it looks like I’ve got plenty of game” he snarked.

“Or a strong right arm” Erica chimed in, squeezing between the two to get to her apron. 

“Has it been busy?” She asked as she slipped the apron over her head and tied the strings in the back. Stiles laughed at her uncanny ability to completely change the mood of a conversation. 

“Not really. It’s been pretty slow since the morning rush died down,” Lydia said “I have to run though, I have class in half an hour and I really want to take a shower first if I can. See you later!” 

Stiles and Erica waved at her retreating form. 

“So twinkle toes, I heard you ran into Sexy Puppy after work yesterday,” Erica said, grinning and prodding his chest with her finger. Stiles sighed.

“How do you even know that already? I swear you’re as bad as Scott sometimes.”   
“Allison and I take the same potions class. I brought you and your crush up and she told me what happened,” Erica’s grin turned sly, “So are you gonna tap that ass or what?”

Stiles could feel his blush all the way down his chest. 

“Erica, this is a serious situation, please stop making it about my sex life”

“Or lack thereof,” she intoned, “I’m just saying, you’ve found yourself in a real-life harlequin love story. Take advantage and bang this hottie so that the rest of us can live vicariously through you.”

Erica slapped him on the back, hard, and headed up front behind the counter. Stiles shook his head, grabbed his bag and followed her, mumbling about blabber mouths and estrogen-fueled fantasies. 

He waved from the door then froze when he noticed who was sitting on the nearest picnic bench. 

Derek Hale’s eyes zeroed in on him and he smirked, raising the bottle of seltzer he was drinking and quirking an eyebrow. Stiles threw his arms into the air uselessly and stomped over to the bench, dropping his bag and himself onto the bench opposite the werewolf. 

“Seriously?! Is this going to become a thing now?” Stiles gestured at himself and Derek and back again, “because I don’t negotiate with stalkers so this will get us nowhere.”

Derek tilted his head to the side, his eyes sliding up and down Stiles’s body. Stiles fought the urge to cover himself. 

“You do realize that I’m much stronger then you right?” Derek asked with a laugh in his voice. Which, woah, who the hell does he think he’s talking to?

“Yes, you’re bigger and stronger than me but try to take me down, and I’m going to be the one who’s walking away. You may be able to break my bones but I can snap your mind before you can even grow those nasty-ass claws of yours so why don’t you check yourself before you go making threats at me.” Stiles said evenly despite the rage he felt burning in his chest. Derek’s eyes narrowed but Stiles stared right back at him, refusing to even blink. 

A prickling in his skin distracted him and his eyes darted to look past Derek’s head. It felt like someone was using glamour, and when he scanned the busy sidewalk he found the source. Stiles recognized one of the thugs who had been there the night he found Derek in the alley, a swirl of static-y fog undulating across his head and torso, he was scanning the area, looking for something. 

“Oh my god!” he squawked, ducking under the picnic table. Derek looked toward the sidewalk before ducking his head under the table to stare wide-eyed at Stiles. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s arm and tugged at him ineffectively until sighing, he finally gave in and slid under the table. 

“One of your uncle’s goons is chilling over there,” Stiles whispered. Derek poked his head out and tried to see what Stiles was talking about. 

“I don’t see any of my uncle’s people?” Derek said, confused. Stiles shook his head.

“He’s using glamour to change his appearance,” Stiles said, exasperated. 

“So how can you see him?”

“Um, hello? I’m half-fae? I mean, I guess it’s not obvious but I didn’t think I looked that gawky. Although Scott always says…” A hand muffled the rest of his sentence. Derek was looking at him and thinking so hard it was practically audible. 

“Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to point this guy out to me. Then we’re going to sneak out of here without him spotting us…if he hasn’t already?”

Stiles shook his head, unable to respond due to the hand still planted firmly on his face. 

“Ok, so we’ll sneak out and go around the other side of the building and head back to my apartment.”

“Mmfwy aar mmee mmowing mo more amaarment” Stiles mumbled around the confining hand. 

“Because I said so. You could always go with my uncle’s employee instead.” 

Stiles shook his head so violently he felt a crick in his neck. Derek’s uncle gave him the creeps. He felt somehow safer going off with Derek than some thug. Better the devil you know, right?

Derek finally lifted his hand from Stiles’s mouth and he worked his jaw a little to loosen it up. He pointed the man out to Derek who only nodded in response and kept a look out while Stiles slid out from under the bench and bolted to the side of the building. A few moments passed before Derek slid out and followed suit. Without saying anything, Derek took the lead and led Stiles down back alleys and side streets. 

Even when the coffee shop was long behind them with no signs that anyone had followed, they remained silent. After about ten minutes of twists and turns—and geez, no wonder he got coffee at the café everyday—Derek came to a halt in front of a luxurious apartment building. This was the kind of place that he and Scott could only dream about living in. There was even an actual doorman! Stiles gawked as they passed the entryway and got into actual working elevators. 

Derek hit the button for the fifth floor and Stiles tried to picture what this place was going to look like. When they exited the elevator and Derek led them into a room a few doors down the hallway Stiles’s expectations were blown out of the water. A huge living room complete with a marble fireplace and a big screen TV stretched out before him, connecting to an equally large, sleek kitchen. The whole wall opposite them was covered in windows overlooking a great view of the city. 

“Woah, crime totally pays I guess” Stiles said, amazed and envious of the beautiful apartment. Derek smirked at him and walked off past the living room into a side room, gesturing about the apartment.

“Make yourself at home.”

Taking that invitation at face value, Stiles let his backpack slide to the floor, slipped off his shoes and hopped over the back of the long, leather couch. Derek came back out a few minutes later wearing a different shirt. He raised his eyebrow at Stiles who lay upside-down on the couch. 

“Do you need a roommate by any chance? One who can pay you in food and friendship?” Stiles asked, smiling. If his couch was this comfortable, he kind of wondered about Derek’s bed. It was probably one of those really expensive gel mattresses. Derek just smirked.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, heading to the kitchenette.

“Starving!” Stiles said, sliding all the way to the floor and turning right-side-up again.

Derek began busying himself in the kitchen. He didn’t ask Stiles for help or say anything so Stiles took that to mean that Stiles could check out and take a nap. He hadn’t meant to fall completely asleep but he must’ve because the next thing he knew Derek was shaking his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. Stiles was beginning to think that that was a common expression with him. 

Stiles stretched and rolled off the couch, following Derek into the kitchen. Two plates of some kind of pasta and spinach dish sat side by side on the island counter. Stiles sat on one of the stools and dug in. It was really really good. 

“This is really really good,” he said, not one to hold back praise where it was due. 

Derek looked up from his own meal and smirked.

“I’m a very talented man” he said. Stiles rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. It was hard to frown with good food and hot men, no matter how obnoxious said men were. They finished their food in comfortable silence.

“So am I being held hostage here, or what’s the situation?” Stiles finally asked, ever a fan getting right to the point. Derek’s eyebrows shot up.

“You can leave whenever you’re ready to. I’m not going to let you walk home alone but I’m not one to use force to get what I want; that’s more my uncle’s M.O”

Derek gathered up the dirty plates and silverware and began rinsing them one by one before sliding them into the dishwasher. The whole scene was beginning to feel very domestic and surreal. He had never pictured the buff hottie who came in for a medium black coffee everyday doing common household chores. It was bizarrely sexy. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Stiles blurted out after the silence had stretched for a while. 

“Would you be disappointed if I did?” Derek asked, grinning wolfishly.

“Not particularly” Stiles said quickly. He could feel the blush on his cheeks. Goddamnit why was he so fucking pale?

Grin never faltering, Derek leaned over the counter until his face was only inches from Stiles’s own. Stiles could feel the hot breath across his cheek as Derek spoke.

“Why don’t you help me out?” he said, voice like sex and velvet. Stiles shivered. This guy was too much. Alright, reign it in Little Stiles, this is not happening right now. 

“Why don’t you walk me home?” Stiles managed to get out, sounding only slightly out of breath. He quickly cleared his throat and slid off his seat, breaking the intense mood. He walked to the entryway and scooped up his bag, slid on his shoes, and looked expectantly toward Derek. 

Derek didn’t move for a moment, frowning slightly. Then he smirked and walked back into Stiles’s space, standing way closer than necessary as he slid on his own shoes. Not one to back down from what he saw as a challenge, Stiles refused to step back. 

They were silent as they headed into the hall, down the elevator, and out the front door.

“Where are we going?” Derek asked when they walked out of earshot of the doorman. He was standing so close to Stiles that their hands kept brushing together on accident. Stiles couldn’t tell if he was being teased or worse, being used. He resolved to completely ignore it. 

“I’m actually only about five blocks that way” he said, pointing back in the direction of the coffee house, “I live really close to the café.” 

“Hmm.” 

Silence fell between the two of them and if there was one thing that Stiles was bad at, it was silence. He made it about two seconds before scrambling for a conversation topic.

“So what is it exactly that you do?” Stiles regretted the question almost as soon as it came out of his mouth. Derek tensed then relaxed so quickly that if Stiles couldn’t feel his arm he probably wouldn’t have even noticed that it happened. He glanced sidelong at Stiles and smirked.

“Do you really want to know?” he teased. Stiles thought about it for a second before deciding, no, he most definitely did not want to know.

“Well it’s a family business right? Did you and your sister want to do this or did you just get stuck with it after…well err…never mind.” 

Stiles cursed his lack of brain to mouth filter and prayed that Derek wouldn’t be angry enough to punch him or something. Stiles was a fragile little flower and he did not want Derek to forget that in a moment of passionate fury. 

When no fists came his way after a few seconds, Stiles felt he was safe. They walked in awkward silence for two full blocks. When they were just turning onto Stiles’s street, Derek finally spoke up. 

“We never felt particularly strongly about the Hale group. We knew it was an option for us, but we didn’t really care whether or not we pursued it. After the fire…after the fire it was all we had left of them. It was their legacy. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.” 

Stiles was silent. They had stopped walking and were just standing still, side by side. Derek was looking at the cement beneath his feet and Stiles was watching his face. Stiles wasn’t stupid. Derek was sharing a part of himself that was significant and vulnerable and none of Stiles’s business. He tried to make sense of the man in front of him. Somehow, he felt that the man was being sincere. 

“One of the only things I have left of my mother is a cook-book.” 

Derek looked up and met Stiles’s eyes. His expression was blank but he was listening.

“It doesn’t have a lot of dinner recipes; my mom was more of a baker. Sometimes when I feel particularly happy or sad or when I miss her, I pull out that book and bake for hours and it feels like she’s with me for a while.”

Stiles smiled and Derek smiled back. It was a small smile, but it was real. Not a smirk or a predator’s grin but a real and true smile. It felt like sharing a secret. 

Fidgeting a little, Stiles gestured to the building a few doors down. 

“This is me, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow if you’re getting coffee?” 

Derek’s grin twisted and he flicked Stiles on the forehead.

“Hey ow dude!” Stiles jumped and touched a hand to his head.

“See you tomorrow Stiles,” Derek said calmly as he walked back the way they had come.

Stiles was kind of looking forward to it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a Sterek sweet tooth tonight lol. Please comment on what you like and what you don't! Also does anyone know how to do simple time break symbols on here?

“Quit daydreaming and fill the creamer!” Erica said, snapping her fingers in Stiles’s face. Stiles just shifted his eyes from the clock to Erica’s face.

 

 “I’m not daydreaming, I’m psychologically preparing myself to restock the cooler,” he replied.

 

 “Been planning on doing that all morning then? And how does the clock play into this?” Erica smirked and flicked his nose, “Why don’t you fill the creamer while you wait for your boyfriend.”

 

 Stiles scowled but went to do as she asked.

 

 “He’s not my boyfriend!” he added over his shoulder.

 

 “Whatever!” she sing-songed.

 

 Deciding that it would make time go by faster, Stiles went on a cleaning spree after filling the creamer, coffee beans, and pastries. He could not say for the life of him why he was looking forward to seeing Derek this morning. The guy was nice enough the other day but that doesn’t change the fact that he was a gang-affiliated stalker.

 

Stiles felt inexplicably safe with Derek; like he knew the guy had no sense of boundaries when it comes to interacting like a normal human being but he never felt threatened by him. Although, who knows, maybe Stiles was just subconsciously thrill-seeking and Derek was a total wack-job.

 

He was halfway done sweeping the back room when Isaac called him to the front to help with the line. Dozens of coffees later, the line finally died down and Stiles peeked up at the clock. It was nearly 10am.

 

  As if summoned by his thoughts, Derek Hale stepped into the now mostly empty café. Stiles rushed over to the register with as much subtlety as he usually showed and body-checked Erica out of his way. He grabbed the medium black coffee he had waiting on the side and placed it down on the counter, beaming.

 

  Derek raised an eyebrow but only pulled out a twenty and handed it over.

 

   “You should probably try shaking it up a bit and getting something else next time,” Stiles said, punching in the order and pulling the change out of the register.

 

   “I like real coffee, not these sugary drinks with barely any coffee in them,” Derek replied.

 

  “Boring,” Stiles said, handing over the change which Derek immediately dropped into the tip jar.

 

   “I’ll see you later,” Derek said, picking up his coffee and heading back out the door.

 

    “Oh my god, he tipped $18 for a $2 coffee!” Isaac said from where he had been lurking behind the espresso machine.

 

    “Damn, someone’s got themselves a sugar daddy,” said Erica, coming up from behind Stiles and smacking him on the back in retaliation for pushing her.

 

 

    “Ouch! He’s not my anything! He’s just a dude who follows me around sometimes.”

 

    “Sure, that’s why the air between you two got so spicy and delicious,” Erica snarked.

 

  “Even I could practically taste the sexual tension between you two,” Isaac chimed in.

 

  “You’re both delusional. Please step out of my personal life which involves no boyfriends or sugar daddies or anything else,” Stiles said, backing away from his smirking coworkers, “I’m gonna go take out the trash.”

 

 Stiles was nothing if not self-aware, and he could admit to himself that he was hella attracted to Derek and there was definitely sexual tension between them, but until he could figure out whether or not this was just a ploy to try and get Stiles to help him out or work for him or whatever it was he really wanted, this was not happening. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t excited to see Derek later, it just means that he wasn’t sure whether that was such a good idea.

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stiles was a good employee who valued his paycheck way too much to risk losing it for being caught texting during work hours, so it wasn’t until he clocked out that he dug his phone out of his bag and found a message from Stupid Rude Stalker Puppy.

_Got held up at work. Won’t be able to make it today._

 

It was definitely indigestion and not disappointment curling in Stile’s chest. Resolving himself to a quiet afternoon of procrastination and video games, Stiles left the shop after a quick goodbye to Erica and Isaac.

 

He had only made it two feet out the door when he felt a hand grab him by the back of his hoodie and haul him backward. Stiles pin-wheeled his arms, trying to maintain balance, but failed miserably and tumbled onto his ass anyway.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped at the tall, thin woman standing over him. Her eyes flashed red and correction, that was tall, thin alpha werewolf. Stiles swallowed the rest of his words and glanced around for a convenient way out of this situation that didn’t end with his dismemberment. He couldn’t really see one from here.

 

“So you’re the little fucker who has my brother so distracted,” the woman said, looking him up and down.

 

“Uh, you’re Laura I guess?”

 

She quirked an eyebrow; Stiles could really see the family resemblance.

 

“Derek’s told you about me?” she asked.

 

“Well it’s not like there are that many…umm I mean, yeah, Derek told me about you.”   

 

Laura narrowed her eyes but she wasn’t stabbing him so Stiles felt like maybe he would survive this interaction despite his malfunctioning filter. It’s kind of like those filters that run in fish tanks but still don’t keep the tank clean so algae grows on the glass and nobody’s happy with that. It’s like his brain was using a fishnet when it needed to be using a coffee filter. God he needed to take his Adderall.

 

“What’s so special about you,” Laura snapped, dragging him from his own thoughts, “you’re not even his type.”

 

Stiles finally stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants. Laura was a little bit shorter than him and a whole lot less intimidating from this position.

 

“Look, me and Derek are just…friends,” he lied, hoping she would be too distracted to notice. She wasn’t.

 

“You’re lying. Tell me why my brother is wasting his time here every day.”

 

“Um,” Stiles thought frantically back to something Erica said.

 

 “He wants to have sex with me?” he tried.

 

Laura’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared but she only shook her head.

 

“Well he has shitty taste in partners if you ask me,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away.

 

“Hey! He has fantastic taste! His taste should win an award!” Stiles shouted to her retreating form. Her only response was the finger she flipped him over her shoulder.

 

Stiles officially did not like Laura Hale.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stiles usually drowned his frustrations with ice cream, but because his pre-exam stress finished off the last of the ice cream, Stiles sat in the living room with graham crackers and nutella. He was only a little disappointed. Scott was “studying” at Allison’s place so the apartment was empty and Stiles was without a distraction. He entertained the thought of studying, but quickly discarded it in favor of a Marvel movie marathon.

 

He was halfway through Captain America and more than halfway through his box of graham crackers when he heard a knock on the door. Brushing the crumbs off his sweats on the way, he went to see who was there.

 

Peeking through the lookout, Stiles couldn’t see anyone in the hallway. He opened the door and looked down the hallway toward the elevator. Seeing nothing, he turned to look in the other direction and almost jumped out of his skin when he realized that Derek Hale was standing not even a foot away leaning against the wall. He may have shrieked a little.

 

“Hey,” Derek said, smirking. Stiles glared at him.

 

“What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack? Why can’t you wait in front of the doorway like a normal person?”

 

“Sorry, force of habit” and Stiles was not going to think too hard about what that meant.

 

“Is it a family trait?” Stiles asked and the smirk slipped off Derek’s face in favor of a scowl.

 

“I feel like I should apologize for that. Laura can be very…nosey when it comes to my personal life. I hadn’t realized she had people on me until she told me she was unimpressed with you.”

 

“People? Like people following you….wait. Unimpressed? I’m a little ball of fucking sunshine, that girl is lucky to have been graced by my presence.”

 

Derek actually laughed and Stiles couldn’t help but smile.

 

“Do you wanna come inside?” Stiles asked, “I mean I’m just watching Marvel movies and eating my feelings.” Stiles blushed a little at his own comment but Derek’s smile just turned dangerous and he leaned a little closer.

 

“And what do your feelings taste like?” he asked. Stiles blushed harder and stepped inside, holding the door open.

 

“Like nutella. Now are you coming in or not?”

 

Derek’s smirk was back but he strolled in past Stiles and made himself at home on the couch.

 

“Captain America?” he commented, “That was one of my favorites.”

 

“I know right! It’s the story of the underdog-turned-hero that so many people can relate to.”

 

Derek nodded.

 

“I used to always want to play Captain America with Laura. She was always Red Skull, of course.”

Stiles nodded vigorously then hopped onto the couch. Derek had sat right in the middle so Stiles was so close that they were almost touching.

 

“She should be. She seems like a villain”

 

Derek laughed and picked up the box of graham crackers.

 

“The funny thing is, if you had met her first, I think you would have really liked her. She’s loud and obnoxious like you are.”

 

“Ha, ha,” Stiles said sarcastically, grabbing the graham crackers out of Derek’s hand, “keep living in your fantasy world where your sister’s not a psycho and I’m not the perfect fae that I am.”

 

Derek shrugged and Stiles restarted the movie. They watched in silence for a while, except for a few arguments over snacks. Stiles eventually busted out the chips and pretzels. They finished Captain America and started the Avengers right afterward, this time commenting on all the characters and the cheesy one-liners.

 

Somewhere between the snacking and laughing, Stiles found himself leaning into Derek’s side with one of Derek’s arms flung over his shoulder. He felt strangely comfortable around Derek. He must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he knew he was waking up alone on the couch.

 

He stretched his back and neck and searched for his phone to check the time. He had two text messages. One from Scott read: _Getting breakfast w/ Allison. I’ll be back after_ _J_

 

The other was from Stupid Rude Stalker Puppy:

_See you later._

 

Stiles smiled and changed his name to Sexy Puppy. It wasn’t until he was brushing his teeth that he realized that Derek hadn’t once asked him about his Voice.

                


	6. Chapter 6

“Cuddling,” Lydia said skeptically over the cappuccino raised to her lips.

“Cuddling,” Stiles confirmed, draining the last of his coffee and setting the mug down onto the table with a definitive clink. Much as Stiles hated spending extra time at the Skullery, Lydia had insisted on meeting him somewhere near the library so she could go study after. Today it was especially undesirable because Lydia was the only person who would probably give him helpful advice and Erica was working today and butting in was second nature to her.

“So what’s the problem?” Lydia asked.

“You know that thing I can do that I don’t do because I’m not supposed to do it?”

“Unfortunately yes, I understand that statement.”

“Well I did it. And he saw and now he’s asking me to do it again and I don’t know if the cuddles were real cuddles or manipulation cuddles,” Stiles said in a rush.

“But you want them to be real cuddles,” Lydia said knowingly.

Stiles shrugged and looked down at his empty mug.

“I guess I don’t know how to feel about it. It was nice, but I want to be sure it was genuine before I worry about how I feel about it, you know?”

“Feel about what?” Erica asked as she pulled up another chair to the table and sat herself down.

“Stiles has feelings for Derek Hale but he’s scared that he’s being used,” Lydia supplied.

“Hey! I didn’t say any of that,” Stiles complained.

“But it’s true,” Lydia replied with a smirk. Erica pinned Stiles with a glare.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help then? I can help you better than Lydia,” she said.

“It’s true, I was going to recommend that you ask Erica,” Lydia agreed.

Stiles gaped at the girls, shocked that Lydia would agree that someone was better than her at anything.

                “I can sense connections,” Erica explained when Stiles didn’t say anything, “romantic connections. I can sense returned feelings and unrequited love and sexual tension. How else do you think I know what fantasies to feed off of?”

                Stiles sat up a little straighter in his seat. He hadn’t thought about that. It did make sense that Erica could help him with his…whatever issues. He was so used to avoiding her harassment that he hadn’t even thought about asking for her help.

                “So what do you sense on me?” he asked, trying (and failing) not to sound like an excited kid.

                “Exactly the same as I keep saying,” she said, smirking, “delicious sexual tension.”

                Stiles felt weirdly disappointed.

                “That’s it?” Lydia asked.

                “Relationships are more complicated than that, even strictly sexual ones,” Erica replied, “There’s more there, a beginning of sorts, but it’s hard to parse what it is.”

                Lydia raised her eyebrows and turned to Stiles.

                “That doesn’t sound discouraging. What are you going to do?” she asked.

                “I honestly don’t know. I think I need to sit with it for a while,” Stiles said, “I definitely need more coffee.”

***

                “I can’t believe you actually confronted him,” Derek said, glaring daggers at his sister. Laura remained unfazed, picking at her fingernails and completely ignoring Derek’s aggressive stance over her desk.

                “Relax Der, I only wanted to see what had you, of all people, pushing work off to the runners,” she said calmly, “I didn’t know you were into twinks.”

                Derek took a deep breath to reign in his anger. Laura knew exactly how to push his buttons and nothing drove him crazier than her apathetic act.

                “It’s not like that, Laura,” he said.

                “You’re lying!” she shouted, slamming her fist onto the desk and pushing herself up into Derek’s space.

                “Honestly Derek, I don’t give a shit what you do but I can’t take this sneaking around and lying to my face. You’re my little brother and you’re all I have left; I don’t want to have to worry about you getting into trouble without me,” she said, shoving Derek’s shoulder to emphasize her point.

                Derek sighed.

                “Look, it’s just really complicated. I’ll make sure I’m getting all my work done.”

                “You better,” Laura said smiling a bit. Derek rolled his eyes. Laura sometimes forgot that she wasn’t his mother. He appreciated the sentiment, but she sometimes (always) went a little overboard. Derek was halfway to the door when Laura added:

                “Der, do you really like this guy?”

                Derek thought about it for a long moment. He’d really started keeping tabs on Stiles because he saw in him a miracle fix for Peter, but for some reason he actually cared about what happened to him. At first it was just his unusually good scent, like freshly cut grass and honey. Then it was his headstrong personality. It was a breath of fresh air when most people cowered and deferred to him. He really didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

                “I guess I do,” Derek finally replied.

                Laura nodded like she had been expecting that. She gathered her papers together and sat back down at her desk.

                “I’m going to expect you to bring him to dinner this week,” she said in a tone that brooked no arguments, “Now get out, I have work to do.”

                Derek smiled and shook his head as he walked out the door.

                It was almost time for Stiles to get off work and Derek had actually finished everything the runners couldn’t do themselves for the day so he figured he could head right to the Skullery. He was walking across the lobby when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.

                “Hello Derek,” Peter said, stepping between Derek and the door, “heading out early again, I see.”

                Derek barely contained the growl that wanted to escape his lips. He was still pissed off about being cornered a few weeks ago. He hadn’t told Laura about it. It was a well-known secret that Peter was vying for power and Laura didn’t need any more on her plate.

                “Get out of my way Uncle Peter,” he bit out.

                Peter sighed dramatically. Derek gritted his teeth.

                “Is that any way to talk to family? Especially with so little left?”

                Derek silently glared at him.

                “Come talk to me. I hear there’s a new beau in your life. I hear I may have even met him before.”

                Derek felt his eyes burning blue.

                “Peter, stay out of it,” He growled.

                Peter lifted his hands in surrender, though the sly smile on his face ruined the effect.

                “Have fun on your date” he said stepping around Derek and walking to the elevators, oozing satisfaction.

                Derek mentally groaned. Peter had no idea that Stiles was the boy from the alleyway, he was fishing for information and Derek handed it to him on a silver platter. He had no way of knowing whether or not Peter knew where he was going after work, but it couldn’t hurt to put someone on Stiles just in case.

***

                When Stiles walked out of the café, Derek was sitting at his usual picnic bench. It was sad, he didn’t even work today but he’s still made sure to be here at 3:00 just in case Derek showed. Stiles didn’t even know for sure that Derek liked him back. He was screwed.

                Derek looked up from his phone and smiled and Stiles’s heart melted. Yeah, he was so screwed.

                “I didn’t even have work today,” Stiles blurted out when he sat down at the table. Derek raised an eyebrow but kept smiling.

                “I guess you couldn’t resist my stimulating company,” he said.

                Stiles laughed.

                “Says the guy who waits for me outside of work every day.”

                “Point taken,” Derek conceded, nodding.

                “So are you done asking about that thing then?” Stiles asked, getting right down to it.  

                Derek looked at Stiles for a long moment.

                “If you tell me honestly whether or not you could help me, I’ll stop asking,” he finally said.

                Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

                “Honestly, no. It doesn’t work like that. I can get myself out of a bad situation in the moment, but it’s not a permanent fix to anything. I mean, if I could help you in any other way I totally would because your uncle seems like a huge creep, but not like that.”

                Derek was silent for a few moments, looking down at the table. Finally he met Stiles’s gaze.

                “Ok,” he said.

                “Ok?” Stiles asked, a little shocked that it was that simple.

                Derek shrugged.

                “It’s not like I was betting my life on this working out.”

                Stiles’s heart sank.

                “So are we…” Stiles gestured between them, not wanting to say the words and afraid to hear the answer.

                “My uncle knows that I’ve been seeing you so I think at this point you could really use the protection,” Derek said.

                “Oh,” Stiles said, disappointed. Erica said there was something there, but it seemed like Derek wasn’t really interested in pursuing it. He could live with that. Probably.

                “Well, I really need to be getting home, so…” Stiles suddenly wanted to be alone.

                Derek frowned but nodded.

                “I’ll walk you.”

                They walked to Stiles’s apartment in silence. Derek occasionally glanced over like he was concerned, but didn’t say anything. When they got there Stiles rushed to the door and waved at Derek who stood still, a look of concern on his face, for a moment then waved back and walked away.

                When he got upstairs, Stiles drowned himself in ice cream and watched the Notebook (one of Allison’s movies). He was just glad that Scott would not be home to see this.

***

                Later that night he got a text from Derek.

                _Come outside._

                He frowned at his phone. He did seem concerned, maybe he wanted to talk?

                Stiles pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and left his apartment building. When he first stepped out of the building, he couldn’t see anyone. Then he felt pain blossoming in the back of his head and then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Derek pov! I'll try to get the next chapter out quickly but it's been slow going with midterms and papers for school.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing the rating to explicit for the next chapter. This chapter is not explicit so if you've been reading this but you don't want to read anything above mature, this chapter is fine. In case anyone was wondering, Peter is my all time favorite character in teen wolf followed closely by Lydia Martin. PS: Sorry for the wonky spaces and indents. I copy and paste into AO3 and it always comes out weird.

                Derek made it all the way back to his own apartment before deciding to text Stiles to make sure he was ok. He wasn’t sure what had happened but it seemed like Stiles was pulling away from him by the end of their short visit. If it was something he said or did, well, he wanted to know.

                It was then that Derek realized, much to his frustration, that he didn’t have his phone on him. He must have left it in his office or Laura’s at some point during the day, though it wasn’t like him to misplace something so important to his work. The fact that he made it so long without noticing its absence just served to show how deeply Stiles had burrowed himself into Derek’s head, but Derek couldn’t bring himself to care.

                Deciding that he would have to just wait until he saw him tomorrow to talk to Stiles, Derek emailed Laura to let her know that he didn’t have his phone and settled in for a night of much needed catch-up work.

****

                The next morning Derek found himself outside of Stiles’s apartment. He told himself that it only made sense to stop by on his way to work…which was in the opposite direction.

                Derek shook his head at himself and knocked on the door, stopping himself from stepping aside at the last minute. Old habits died hard.

                Derek could hear footsteps approaching and without any hesitation the door swung open. A disheveled looking college student stood in the doorway, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. The boy looked him up and down slowly with a look of mistrust on his face. Derek resisted the urge to bare his teeth. He recognized the scent as the one that mingled with Stiles’s inside the apartment so he figured getting on this boy’s bad side wouldn’t get him very far.

                “I’m looking for Stiles,” he said instead.

The boy tilted his head to the side but didn’t move away from the doorway.

“He texted me last night before I got back saying he was staying over at your place.”

Derek felt his heart stop. The other boy must have heard it too because he was spinning around and rushing into the apartment. Derek silently followed him into what must have been Stiles’s bedroom. Stiles’s scent was fairly fresh; he must’ve been in here last night. The boy stood over an unmade bed and turned to face Derek, pinning him with a murderous look.

“I knew you were going to get him into trouble!” he almost shouted.

“Scott, what’s…” a young girl walked into the room and froze when she saw Derek. She gaped at him, her mouth hanging open.

“You’re covered in black,” she said.

Derek was confused by the out of place comment but Scott seemed to know what she was talking about.

“Who is out to get you?” he asked, barely concealing his rage. The girl rushed over to him and threw an arm around his waist. His eyes never left Derek’s but he seemed to calm down a little bit. They sat in silence for a few long moments while Derek tried to figure out what he was talking about.

“Ok, I don’t know what all that was,” Derek finally said, “but I know who took Stiles. So are you going to just lay the blame on me or are you going to help me find him?”

Scott was silent for a moment, assessing Derek it seemed, before finally he nodded. The girl next to him smiled and met Derek’s eyes.

“We’re in,” she said.

****

Stiles woke up slowly. His head throbbed with pain and the light hurt his eyes so he kept them squinted as tried to figure out what happened. He shot up when he realized he wasn’t in his bedroom.

“Oh, good. I was starting to get bored.”

Stiles jumped at the voice and looked over the couch. Leaning in the middle of an entryway was Derek’s uncle, wearing a suit and looking too relaxed to have just kidnapped an 18 year old kid.

“Would you like some tea?” Peter asked calmly.

“Where the fuck am I?”Stiles practically shouted.

Peter disappeared into the kitchen and Stiles took in his surroundings. He was in a rustic looking den. There was no TV or phone and he could see trees outside the window, but he couldn’t see anyone else from where he was.

Peter walked back into the den with two mugs in his hands. He walked past Stiles and set one down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then sat down on a winged back chair a few feet across the room.

“This is my cabin. It’s about 2 hours north of the city and I left a few false trails so they won’t be getting here for a bit. You were out for quite a while,” he said, sipping his tea.

Stiles blinked, a little dumbfounded. He waited for Peter to continue but he just sat and smiled at him. Creeper.

“Soooo, why am I here?” Stiles finally asked, twisting on the couch to get more comfortable and looking at the tea suspiciously. He was really thirsty, but he didn’t trust this man as far as he could throw him.

“It’s not poisoned. I’m much stronger than you so there’s no real reason for me to poison you,” he said, still smiling, “and you’re here because my nephew is head over heels for you.”

“Um, no he’s not” Stiles felt he had to correct the man, not missing the fact that this was not a real reason.

“Of course he is. I double checked by showing an interest and the look on his face was priceless. He’s usually so stoic; I love pissing him off.”

“Wait, this isn’t about my abilities?” Stiles asked.

Peter raised his eyebrows.

“I knew where you were the day after you used your Voice. I was originally going to ask you to work for me, but when Derek started following you around like a lost puppy I figured this would be more interesting,” he said.  
                “I don’t really know if that makes me feel better or just more creeped out,” Stiles replied.

Peter laughed and Stiles was definitely going with more creeped out.

“I knew your mother before the fire. She died before I fully healed and I moved out to the city without contacting your father, but I recognized you. You have her ability and her eyes,” Peter said.

Stiles looked at him critically. His mother used to tell him stories about werewolves and he knew that the Hale house was in Beacon Hills, but who knew if he was telling the truth or not. I was surprising that he knew what the Voice was and that his mother had it, but that could just be coincidence. He looked at the tea in front of him and figured screw it, taking a long drink.

“So if this is just about messing with Derek, why were you attacking him in the first place?” he asked when he finished drinking.

“You interrupted me in the middle of a negotiation. Derek is too sentimental to kill me, so when I threaten to take over the company, it just makes him more amenable to giving me what I ask when I lower my demands. I was trying to get control over a new building project his people were working on,” he responded.

Stiles stared at him.

“Really? You seriously attacked me in the middle of the night, gave me a concussion, and drove me all the way here for just a, what, a prank?”

Peter smiled.

“Well, when I pull stunts like this they concede more projects to me so I don’t have so much time on my hands but essentially yes. My nephew hasn’t truly fallen for anyone since the fire. I wanted to meet you anyway, this way I get more out of it,” he said.

Stiles slumped into the cushions of the sofa.

“Alright, whatever, do you have anything to eat?”

****

Peter was apparently an amazing cook and Stiles was halfway through the best chicken and rice he had ever had when the front door crashed open. Mid-sentence he just froze, mouth hanging open on a word he never got out, and twisted in his seat to look toward the living area.

“PETER”

That was definitely Derek. He sounded more pissed off than he was in the alleyway. Stiles turned back to Peter only to see him beaming back at him, his hands rising slowly in a show of surrender.

“You could’ve told me they got here, dude, I almost had a heart attack” Stiles said, sort of smiling himself because Derek was so angry over _him._

Derek stormed into the kitchen, totally wolfed out and followed by Laura, Allison, and Scott. Derek stopped right next to the table, looked Stiles up and down, then crossed his arms and glared at his uncle. Laura was glaring at Stiles like the whole thing was his fault, which, excuse her, it wasn’t. Scott had this wild look in his eye like he couldn’t figure out whether to be furious at Peter or happy that Stiles was safe, and Allison was looking at Stiles with a confused affect.

There were several moments of tense silence, which Stiles broke when he started laughing. He couldn’t help it. The effect of three murderous werewolves and a siren would have been much more intimidating if they weren’t all cramped into a small kitchen in a get-away cabin.

Four pairs of eyes looked at him and he abruptly stopped, turning his laugh into a cough.

“Sorry, go ahead,” he said, waving his hand in the air.

The wolfish features disappeared from Derek’s face, though his eyes still glowed blue, and he turned back to his uncle.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding exasperated instead of angry. Scott looked like he was trying to squeeze past Laura to get to Stiles and he hoped he did because while Stiles would stand up to this bitch in a heartbeat, he preferred to do it when he had an exit strategy.

“What does it look like we’re doing? You’ve interrupted us in the middle of dinner,” Peter said, a touch of surprise coloring his voice. He dropped his hands and leaned back in his chair.

“Dinner,” Derek said flatly. He scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Alright,” he said, “I’m not dealing with this right now. Everyone is going home and we’re going to deal with this later.”

Peter huffed.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, I just wanted to meet your new boyfriend.”

Stiles couldn’t help the small blush that colored his cheeks. He glared at Peter who shrugged turned his smile back on his nephew.

Scott finally got past Laura, who made a noise of disgust and headed for the front door.

“Stiles, dude, are you ok?” he asked, his hands hovering like he wanted to pat Stiles down to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

“I’m fine, just a mild concussion.”

Stiles heard a quiet growl off to the side. He smiled.

“There’s no black on you, I really don’t understand what’s going on,” Allison said, coming up behind Scott.

Peter walked out of the kitchen with Derek following close behind.

“I’ll explain it in the car. Dude,” he said turning to Scott, “He knew my mom, her favorite foods and everything.”

Scott looked surprised, but waved a hand for Stiles to get a move on it and started walking to the unhinged door.

“I guess it makes sense, the Hale house used to be there and your mom was weirdly obsessed with werewolves.”

When they got outside, Stiles spotted Derek standing outside of his car talking to Laura. Peter was already sitting in the back seat. They made eye contact and Peter smiled and waved his fingers. Stiles rolled his eyes and turned to Scott.

“I have to do something, ok?” he said.

Scott looked like he wanted to complain but he just sighed.

“Fine, we’ll be in the car,” he replied.

Stiles beamed at him then ran over to Derek and Laura and pulled Derek into a hug, ignoring the huff he heard behind him. Derek’s arms hovered for a second in surprise, and then came around Stiles, pulling him closer.

“Thanks for actually coming to save me,” Stiles said into Derek’s ear, then started to pull away.

Derek released his arms but rather than letting him go, he cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft and sweet and this time it was Stiles chasing Derek’s lips, making the kiss deeper and only letting go when he heard a car door slam shut behind Laura.

Stiles gave Derek one last peck before pulling back and beaming up at him.

“See you tomorrow,” Stiles said before heading to Scott’s car parked a few yards away.

Derek smiled and winked at him before getting into his own Camaro. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left!!!


	8. Chapter 8

Allison and Scott made him go to the hospital for his head injury. He tried to tell them that it was only a little concussion and it wasn’t a big deal but they refused to take him home before stopping at the ER.

 

Stiles was stuck in the hospital for about four hours before they finally let him go. Like he had tried to tell his friends, he only had a mild concussion which would dissipate with some rest.

 

When they finally got back to the apartment, Stiles immediately threw himself down on the couch and went to sleep.

 

When he woke up, the living room was filled with shadows cast by the setting sun outside the window. He stretched his body then went in search of his roommate. He didn’t have to look far. Scott was sitting Indian style on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by paper. Allison sat a few feet away at the computer, printing out more articles. They both looked up and smiled at him as he walked in.

 

“So, what’s going on here?” Stiles had to ask.

 

“We’re looking up every article that mentions the Hale family or Hale Corp. If you’re gonna be involved with these people, we should at least have an idea of how dangerous they are,” Scott said, highlighting something on the page he was looking at.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed.

 

“I don’t know why you think I can’t take care of myself. But thanks, I guess,” he said.

 

“Are you going to stay in tonight,” Allison asked, turning from the computer screen, “Me and Scott were thinking about having an action movie marathon if you want to join us.”

 

Stiles thought it over but quickly decided that he had someplace better to be.

 

“Actually, I think I’m going to go ambush Derek. He should probably be home by now,” he said, trying and failing to suppress his grin.

Scott flopped dramatically onto the floor and groaned. Allison kicked lightly at his shoulder and smiled back at Stiles.

 

“That’s sweet. You should probably text him and make sure that he’s back before you go though,” she said.

 

Stiles nodded and pulled out his phone, ignoring the mumbling he could hear coming from Scott. He pulled up Derek’s number and sent out a quick text.

 

_Are you home?_

The reply was almost instantaneous.

 

_Yes. Why?_

 

Stiles opted not to answer and waved goodbye to Allison and Scott. It took him only ten minutes to get to Derek’s fancy apartment building. The doorman gave Stiles a weird look but let him into the building without any trouble.

 

He headed straight for the elevators and rode up to Derek’s floor. When he got to the apartment, however, he hesitated. Was this really ok to do? I mean, yeah, they kissed and all but maybe that was just an in-the-moment thing? Would Derek be unhappy that he just showed up like this?

 

Stiles was getting ready to just leave when the door suddenly swung open in front of him. He blinked a few times, taking in Derek’s amused expression.

 

“Were you just going to stand out there all night?” he asked.

 

Stiles blushed a little and scowled at the grinning werewolf.

 

“I was just admiring the hallway. How did you know I was here, anyway?” he asked.

 

Derek just tapped his nose then grabbed Stiles by the wrists and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. He released his wrists but didn’t move away, crowding Stiles against the door.

 

“What made you come over?” Derek asked, leaning in and sniffing at Stiles’s neck.

 

Stiles’s brain cells short-circuited at how close he was.

 

“Um… uh, I just wanted to see you I guess,” he said.

 

Derek backed off of him and Stiles wasn’t sure if he was glad or disappointed.

 

“Are you ok? I mean, I know you’re physically ok, you don’t smell injured, but are you feeling ok?”

 

Derek looked legitimately worried and it took all of Stiles’s self-control not to just laugh in joy because Derek actually cared about him.

 

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not an experience that I want to repeat but your Uncle is actually pretty cool. Insane, but cool,” he said, laughing at Derek’s scandalized expression.

 

“Trust me, his charm wears out when you have to work with him every day,” Derek said, “I’m just glad you’re alright. Do you want something to drink?” he asked, moving into the kitchen.

 

Stiles followed Derek after a beat and stood in the entryway watching him reach into a cabinet for glasses. He hovered for a moment before steeling himself and walking straight up to Derek.

 

He touched Derek’s raised arm and when the man put down the glasses and turned to him, Stiles pressed his lips to his in a hesitant kiss.

 

Derek didn’t respond immediately and Stiles was about to pull away and apologize but then he felt an arm around his waist pulling him closer and a hand in his hair, gripping tight and holding him steady as Derek moved his lips over Stiles’s.

 

They kissed, slow and deep, and Stiles couldn’t control the occasional buck of his hips against Derek. It wasn’t until Stiles felt the hand on his waist go lower that he pushed at Derek’s chest, breaking the kiss.

 

“Wait, wait. What are we doing?” he asked.

 

Derek looked confused.

 

“Well, I thought we were making out,” he said.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and slapped a hand against Derek’s chest.

 

“I know that! I mean like, is this a thing? Are we a thing?” he asked, holding his breath for the answer.

 

A look of understanding crossed Derek’s face and he leaned in until his lips were just barely touching Stiles’s.

 

“Do you want this to be a thing?” he said against his mouth.   

 

Stiles fought off the lust haze threatening to overtake his brain and nodded.

 

“Yeah, I mean, yeah,” he said quietly.

 

Derek pressed his lips lightly against Stiles’s.

 

“Good. Me too,” he said before pressing his lips more firmly to Stiles’s and dragging him even closer.

 

Stiles let himself get lost in the kiss for a while before pushing at Derek’s shoulders. When he took a step back, looking at Stiles expectantly, Stiles raised his eyebrows and smiled.

 

“So, you never showed me your bedroom?” he managed to turn the statement into a question.

 

Derek gave him a toothy grin and grabbed onto Stiles’s hand. He half led, half dragged Stiles out of the kitchen and down a short hallway into one of the most Spartan bedrooms he had ever seen.

 

“Dude, you need some posters of something because this is just depressing,” he said.

 

Derek rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles off-balance so that he fell onto the bed. At least the sheets felt nice.

 

“I don’t usually spend much time here,” Derek said, crawling onto the bed and straddling Stiles’s hips, “and when I’m here I don’t do much else than sleep.”

 

Stiles pulled Derek down for another kiss.

 

“Well it’s all about the atmosphere. Feng shui and all that jazz. I’m going to bring you some posters or something,” he said between kisses.

 

Derek laughed against his mouth.

 

“I’ve seen your room and it doesn’t give me much faith in your decorating abilities,” he said.

 

Stiles huffed and shoved Derek onto the bed, flipping their positions so that he could glare down at the man. It didn’t seem to be working though, because Derek looked like he was trying not to laugh.

 

“I happen to have impeccable taste. I’m not taking judgment from someone with white walls,” Stiles said.

 

Derek didn’t respond but pulled Stiles down so he could kiss him. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hands where they gripped his hips and raised them until they were resting above his head.

 

“Keep them there,” he said firmly, looking Derek in the eye until he nodded his head, smiling.

He pulled off his own shirt and tossed it to the floor, pulling at Derek’s shirt until, with Derek’s help, he got it over his head and threw that to the floor as well.

 

Stiles kissed down Derek’s jawline, moving to nip and suck marks onto his neck. He kept it up until there were several love bites running down his neck. From the quiet moans that Derek kept trying to swallow, Stiles figured he was enjoying the attention.

 

When he started to kiss his way down Derek’s chest and stomach, Stiles suddenly felt a hand in his hair. He stilled and sat up, looking down at Derek.

 

Derek looked back at him, pupils blown wide and squinting up at Stiles as if trying to figure out why he stopped. Stiles could see the exact moment when he realizes and he laughs a little and places his hands back above his head.

 

Stiles grins and goes back to exploring Derek’s gorgeous body. Honestly, this man should come with a warning label for how attractive he is. He made it to the dark trail of hair below his belly button when he felt the ghost of a touch against his hair.

 

He froze and sat back up, smirking down at Derek who had already laid his hand back above his head. He shrugged his shoulders and Stiles debated what he was about to do for a few moments. Finally, he sighed and decided to just go for it.

 

“ _Do not move your hands_ ,” he said, pushing energy and will into his Voice.

 

Derek must have felt the difference because his eyes were wide as he glanced from Stiles’s face up to his own hands.

 

Stiles panicked, hoping he hadn’t just crossed the line and completely ruined their relationship before they even started it.

 

His eyes were glued to Derek who was looking at his hands and tugging his arms experimentally. When he finally met Stiles’s eyes he looked more amused than angry.

 

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” he said, grinning up at him.

 

Stiles waited for the other shoe to drop. When nothing happened other than Derek groaning in frustration and bucking up against him, Stiles smiled and slotted himself back between Derek’s legs. He made quick work of Derek’s jeans, sending them to join the growing pile of clothing on the floor.

 

Somehow, Stiles knew Derek was a boxers guy. He giggled a little as he pulled them down, exposing Derek’s dripping member. He spent a moment just taking him in before ducking his head down and licking a stripe up the length of him.

 

Derek moaned and Stiles’s jeans were getting way too tight. He quickly shucked off his own pants and underwear then took Derek into his mouth almost to the base. It was times like these that Stiles appreciated the fact that he had no gag reflex.

 

Derek moaned long and low, his back arching off the bed though his hands stayed glued above his head. Stiles would have smiled if he could. Instead he began to bob his head up and down, swirling his tongue as best he could.

 

He hummed when Derek’s moans became more desperate, pulling off of him with a soft pop. Derek groaned in complaint but Stiles ignored him, sitting up so that he could look down at Derek.

 

“Can I fuck you?” he asked.

 

Derek looked at him like he had two heads.

 

“What the fuck do you think,” he practically growled, “lube’s in the top draw.”

 

Stiles stretched across the bed, fumbling around the draw until he found a small bottle of lube. Pouring a generous amount into his hand, he dropped the bottle on the bed and rubbed his hands together to warm up the cold liquid.

 

Stiles took just the head of Derek’s cock into his mouth and slipped his hand between his cheeks to rub at his hole. He mouthed and licked at the slit as he slipped first one, then two fingers in, twisting an bending his fingers until he rubbed up against Derek’s prostate.

 

Derek moaned and pushed back against Stiles as he added a third finger, still rubbing against his prostate with every thrust of his hand.

 

“Oh my god, Stiles. I’m ready just fuck me already!” Derek growled out, clearly frustrated that he couldn’t lift his hands to drag Stiles up his body.

 

Stiles almost laughed until he met Derek’s burning blue eyes. He felt heat pool in the pit of his belly and he scrambled to find the lube again.

 

“Condom?” he asked, voice rasping a little.

 

“I can’t catch anything so it’s really up to you,” Derek said, wrapping his legs around Stiles’s waist to hurry him along.

 

Screw it, he knew from Scott that werewolves were immune to diseases and he was clean the last time he checked. He dumped more lube onto his palm and quickly spread it onto his dick. He lined himself up and pushed all the way in to the base in one hard thrust.

 

Derek groaned like he was dying and Stiles had to hold still for a second and concentrate on not totally embarrassing himself by coming right there.

 

When the heat in his spine felt a little less overwhelming, Stiles started pushing in a long, slow rhythm, aiming for the tight bundle of nerves with every thrust.

 

The breathy punched-out sounds that Derek was making were driving Stiles crazy, and he was soon rutting against him with abandon. When he felt the pressure in his spine beginning to build, he reached between their bodies to jerk Derek’s ignored cock.

 

A few pulls and Derek was coming between them. Stiles bent over and swallowed Derek’s broken moan in a desperate kiss. A few more thrusts and Stiles felt his own orgasm tearing through him. He groaned as Derek continued to lick and nip at his lips then collapsed on top of the man, ignoring the mess on Derek’s stomach.

 

“Awesome,” he said, ready to just fall asleep on top of Derek.

 

Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything and they laid there soaking up the after-glow for several long minutes before Derek started to wiggle beneath him.

 

“You know, the use of my arms would be really nice right now,” he said.

 

“Oh right,” Stiles said having completely forgotten that the man was stuck, “ _You can move your hands_.”

 

Derek pulled his hands down and stretched his fingers before wrapping Stiles into a tight hug and turning them on their sides. Stiles curled up in Derek’s arms and kissed his palm. He was still for another few minutes before the drying cum on his skin started to feel tacky and gross.

 

“I need a shower,” he mumbled, rolling away from Derek and off the bed. Derek watched him walk to the bathroom connected to the room. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Derek with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“Well, are you coming?” he asked.

 

 

“So his shower was that nice?” Erica asked, leaning against the counter and watching Stiles fill the espresso machine with coffee beans.

 

“I would literally sell my soul for his shower. There were two shower heads and water jets that sprayed up from the floor and wall. I want to move out of the apartment and move into Derek’s shower and just stay there forever,” he gushed.

 

Derek hadn’t understood what the big deal was. ‘It’s just a shower,’ he had said. Yeah, just like the Mona Lisa was just a drawing.

 

“So is he your sugar daddy now?” Isaac asked, slapping Stiles’s ass as he passed by.

 

Stiles scowled at him and rubbed at his backside.

 

“He’s my boyfriend, not my sugar daddy,” he pouted.

 

Erica laughed at him and pinched his cheeks.

 

“Same thing, sweetie,” she said.

 

Stiles slapped her hand away and she only started laughing harder. He ignored her and brought the bag of beans back to the stock room. On the way back, he paused and walked back to their Sexy Puppy scoreboard.

 

He erased everyone’s name and their points and wrote in big, black letters “STILES WINS.” Satisfied, he went back to the front to see Isaac and Erica crowding the register.

 

“Stiles, your sugar daddy’s here,” Erica called.

 

Derek rolled his eyes but smiled when he saw Stiles walking towards the coffee. He poured the familiar order, medium black coffee, and set it down on the counter.

 

“How cute,” Isaac cooed.

 

Derek looked from Isaac to Erica.

 

“I liked you guys better when you didn’t talk to me. Why do I even still come here?” he said.

 

Stiles smiled at his new boyfriend and gestured at the travel cup with a dramatic flourish.

 

“The magic’s in the coffee,” he said then laughed when Derek just turned around and left, waving behind his shoulder when he was almost to the door.

 

Stiles was looking forward to walking home with him after work.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!!!!](http://xodanielleox.tumblr.com/) :)


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